Minnie Mirage Supastar
by GiantTribble
Summary: Join Minnie Mirage, half-Romulan hustla, lightsaber wielding thugstress and playgirl, as she journeys in the starship Ninja with her teen sidekick and sexy android. As she runs from pigs, outsmarts the Tal Shiar, and chases ass, Minnie soars through space on her own quest for rap stardom. This weed-fueled tale combines sizzling erotica, urban thug life, and trolltastic humor.
1. Rocky Planet High

As the whiny strains of Aaliyahm's latest crappy porno groove streamed from the ship's computer, Minnie leaned back as voices from the past streamed through her mind.

" That no good, round eared, block head light diarrhea color muthafucka," said Hleith "LeeLee" Rodriguez, daughter of Hlong, as she complained about that bath salt addict she used to roll with. "Hey! Hey! Stop it Hlathong!" Minnie swallowed the crack rock she had been sucking on.

Her mom pronounced her awkward Romulan name with a hard ass achhh sound. Accchlathwong. It sounded horrible mixed with Basic, but her mom always spoke their home language. "I can't stand Human cultural imperialism," she would always rant. "Fuck the hegemony, Terrancentric bullshit and beauty standards, the kyriarchy -" Minnie would reply: why the hell'd you shack up with one? She would respond with: You're defending English (Basic) and that human happened to be a Laotian boy from Mars… sheesh.

LeeLee was a rogue peddler, and now Minnie did the same damn thing. Mar Thoma II came up ahead of her, a crappy grey K-class rock like every other planet in this Outer Rim.

"Ground control to freighter."

"This is Minnie Mirage of the Ninja, interstellar trade ship. I have preemptive permission to be here, since I come here every year."

"You are permitted to beam down to the following coordinates with your merchandise (())".

"Coming right away. Thank you, Ground Control."

Minnie got herself and a half crate into the transporter room and her trusty astro droid, Tyrone, beamed them down.

They arrived in a low grey building. The souk was outside, Minnie signed in and started setting up her booth with a humanoid intern.

"So Minnie, how's the life of an interstellar merchant like?"

"Well, it's usually pretty boring." She opened a large, cooing box and put some tribbles in a bin. In a cooler, she put some wine bottles full of blue stuff. In another bin, she put some designer bags, and she also began setting out a plate of hemp brownies. Bhang, as they called it in the Mar Thoma system – a system ruled by the Muslim Brotherhood, yet with an ironically Christian name. Interesting how bits and bobs of Terran history got chopped and screwed, Houston rap style circa 2013, by non-Terran people in the depths of space.

"Your merchandise sure ain't boring," said the teen girl. "Hey, could I get one of those brownies?"

"Help yourself, Kim." Minnie had plenty of them back on the ship. But this new galactic low-carb craze wasn't helping at all.

"How is space boring? I've never been offworld."

"It sucks. Have you ever driven a long haul truck containing tons of delicious beer, but then realized it was illegal to drive drunk? Did you also grow up in the back of a truck while your mom drove drunk all day?"

"Hell no. But I bet it was cooler than getting tased in the ass by public school guards, bullied, and sent to juvie for selling weed."

"I hear ya. Well, how's your internship here at the souk coming along?" The booth was all set up and Minnie was selling tribble after tribble to teen girls while Kim Atta poured samples of Romulan ale for thirsty guys.

"It's going great. I love every minute. But yo, I'm 21, I'm at my peak, gotta go off planet, meet babes, and get wasted. I'm tired of this dome-capped rock full of Muslim Brotherhood assholes." Indeed, Mar Thoma II was known for its Tea Party politics: this was the only souq that sold contraband in the open. That's why business was so good, people went apeshit over weed and liquor, kids loved tribbles which were also illegal.

"Tell ya what, why don't you join the navy or something. They don't care if you have misdemeanors or minor felonies."

They were selling a lot of stuff. Money was really rolling in, and Minnie was making enough where she could soup up the spaceship and vacation somewhere nice.

"I want to come with you, Mirage. Or at least, you could drop me off on some other planet."

Minnie was like: "Are you serious, kid? What can yo' bama ass bring to the table?

"I can tap into the Romulan security system. We can find ways to get ales, liquors and wines wholesale and at cheaper prices. And other drugs too."

"Honey I… think we'll have a problem if this ship is ever seen in that area. And whachu know about the Empire?" Minnie didn't want to talk about it, but she had a long-running beef with the Romulans. Mar Thoma II was far enough from mainstream Federation space where nobody cared about any sort of empire, but the Romulans wouldn't forget a wanted woman. And she'd rather deal with the Muslim Brotherhood than the Tal Shiar.

"Girl I can make you millions of credits. Billions! I swear to Allah. I took down the Mar Thoma censorship system before and sent a lethal injection of porn through the moral heart of the system. Why do you think I was permanently tarred as a felon at the age of 14? Lol.

All I'm saying is you don't need to worry about no pointy eared motherfuckas… no offense," said Kim, catching sight of Minnie's earlobe.

"It's a long, long story. And I've gotta leave for Alpha Callusi in the morning. Have you ever dropped Callusian shrooms? Best stuff in the quadrant.

"No, I haven't. But I'd like to try. Maybe I could get a job there. Anything to get off this rock."

Minnie and Kim counted cash at the bank counter. There were Federation credits, Thomasian rupees, and even a couple of Romulan denarii. Seeing the coin with its eagle logo brought back memories for Minnie – good and bad. They sorted it into currencies and denominations.

"Not bad," said Minnie, handing cash to the teller. "We made about ten grand credits today."

"11,025, to be exact," said the teller. "But you're not much off. Mar Thoma rupiahs' exchange rate fluctuates like colors in a lava lamp, and there literally is no proper exchange rate for Romulan because it's not supposed to be used outside the Empire. We have to add multiple conversions together, some daily, some realtime for an estimate."

"Tell me about it," said Minnie, who had personal experience with that specific forex issue.

"Do you want me to direct deposit your check, Ms. Mirage?"

"Sure. Here's my banking information. It's under a corporate account." She handed over the info for her anonymous bank account – she couldn't use one that could be tracked.

They were back on the ship because food on Mar Thoma II was hella expensive – all the halal requirements and whatever made using the Ninja's replicator a better choice for dinnertime.

"Now, are you sure you want to do this," said Minnie, eating some pasteles (a meat patty of Romulan origin, not the similarly named Earth food). "You literally have to be packed, back here at 8 in the morning tomorrow and ready to work on this Romulan shit. Then I'll drop you off on Alpha Callusi. Remember, this is for good. You'll be starting a new life."

Tyrone sipped fuel and raised a steel-grey eyebrow. "Life on Mar Thoma II must really suck for you if you want to do this, Kim. Callusi is no Waverly Hills. It's a pretty boring place, which is why we go there to sell drugs."

"At least drugs and premarital sex are legal there," said Kim, sipping Romulan borscht. "Hey, this shit is good." She moved on to some large, orange, unsliced sushi-like rolls stuffed with spicy chicken marinated in a rich tomatillo sauce.

"So, this is Romulan food, right? That reminds me. You promised me a story about why you didn't want to use my skills in a liquor smuggling venture."

Minnie sighed. Her cover had been blown. "You see… my mom was originally Romulan."

Kim was definitely interested. "What the hell happened to you?"

"She was kicked out of the navy for being incompetent. But instead of killing her, they expected her to kill herself. Instead of doing that, she started selling gas, grass and ass on the Outer Rim."

"What the fuck? Isn't that like, against the culture?"

"Yeah. She got addicted to bath salts and that's why there's a childhood picture of me on Instagram, sucking on a crack rock as a pacifier.

I tried to scam the Empire into thinking my mom was dead, and then giving me survivor's Social Security. And it worked – but not for long. I was living high off the hog for a month.

You see, they put a tracking chip in everyone born in that culture and apparently my mom's chip was still on. I didn't know that. There's a lot of shit I don't know. What this means is that there's a bounty on my head if I go anywhere near that place."

"What if I could take that away," said Kim.

Minnie wasn't high but she somehow, deep inside, believed this trailer trash chick from the Moral Majority planet. "Can you do it without going into actual Romulan space?"

"I can do it from the border of the Neutral Zone, as long as I can get into their Wifi. Change your status." For real? She wouldn't be saying it if it wasn't.

"All right. Right after the Alpha Callusi trip, we'll go toward that border. You'd better be right or we'll both be dead."


	2. Into the Neutral Woods

They had left Alpha Callusi unsatisfied yet again. Sure, they got a bit of cash for their efforts but it was never enough. Always getting screwed! The Stratford wife acting, giant acrylic nail and weave sporting Callusian hoes were dumb at everything except for contracts and money. They were like fuckin' weasels, always getting their way. But Minnie was bound by a 10-year contract because she was a dumbass who hadn't read the fine print.

Minnie sat in her threadbare captain's chair, nursing a tumbler of high-gravity Romulan ale and smoking a joint. The air filter removed the traces of smoke that Tyrone complained hardened his joints.

"Tyrone, lay in a course for the Romulan Neutral Zone. Steady Warp 8."

"I hope you're sure about this. I know you don't mind death, being mixed with Romulan, but I definitely don't want to be deactivated."

"This better be the real deal, Kim. I don't know your psychiatric history but… I can't believe it. Sigh."

Bam. And so they were there. Minnie drew in a sharp breath as Kim worked at the computer station.

"I'm getting on a proxy server and plugging into the Wifi signal. And… we're connected. They can't see us, but I can see them.

Now, here. I'm running a translator. I don't see a Minnie Mirage listed."

"I should be listed as Rodriguez Hlathong chHleith. Sigh."

"Damn gurl, lol, I know why you prefer Minnie. Aight. Wowww…. your culture really has no sense of what a statute of limitations is. This was 48 years ago? And you're still listed as wanted?"

"Sigh. Yes. God I'm ashamed of that shit. Nobody believes I'm mixed with Terran. At least my Romulan side keeps me looking sexy at age 65."

"Damn gurl, I thought you were 25. My mom's 65 and she's starting to shrivel up but the niqab (Islamic face veil) at least hides it.

Okay. Got it. I have you listed as a free woman. No alert, no parole, no criminal record. Now to change it with Social Security and the Intel records. Got it."

"That's it? You're not playing are you?"

"See for yourself." She turned the screen over.

A ship started to decloak. "We're being hailed. On screen."

"Freighter, identify yourself." A pissed off Romulan guy appeared in what appeared to be some sort of security uniform.

"This is Captain Vartak of Vulcan, of the private research vessel Microfiche. We are conducting a survey of gamma radiation and bringing supplies to Karteelia Station."

"I don't know what the hell that is, but -"

"As far as my sensors can tell, we're 500 meters from the Neutral Zone, but not in it. But you're on the wrong side, if you're a Romulan agent. Microfiche out."

The Romulan ship moved away, and the Ninja moved in the opposite direction.

"Now you're impressed by my hacking. I'm impressed by your shit." If there's anything Minnie's good at, it's lying like a dog at the drop of a hat. 48 years of swindling will do that to you.

"You've earned your place on this vessel, Kimora. Now it's time for some well-deserved R&R. What's nearby? Oh, that's right. Tyrone, set a course for New Jakarta. We're gonna get stoned off our asses and watch some male strippers."


	3. The Minnie and the Beast

Minnie sat in the bar on New Jakarta, taking a much needed vacation. A lanky, copper skinned figure started walking toward her from the distance, cutting through the crowd like a knife through soft margarine. Whoever the fuck that was… Damn. Minnie almost spat out her palm wine.

"Whoa, Tariq, blast from the past! What's up nigga?" said Minnie as she recognized the familiar face. His name was spelled Tariek in standard form, but Minnie liked to use the East Romulan spelling. Either way, it was an ancient word for evening star – and his eyes shone bright like that star.

"Greetings, Minnie. I guess you're wondering what I'm doing in this den of scum and villainy."

"Yeah, you know? What have you and your triflin' ass family been up to?" It hurt to say those words, but Minnie had to snipe back after what happened. Especially since, you know, Tariq still had it goin' on. His smooth-ass stereotypically Vulcan haircut miraculously maintained its integrity in this damp heat, and absolutely nothing on him was out of place. No sweat gathered in his armpits. So flyyy. Vulcans are all so sexy and they know it, unlike Romulans, Klingons, Terrans etc, the majority of whom are ugly. (Including yours truly, thought Minnie…)

"Well, you know, I did what they wanted. Whatever." He narrowed his eyes further. "Then the bitch left me. So I left the planet. I'm not living for my dad anymore, crusty old racist. I'm a citizen of New Jakarta, the sexiest place in the galaxy." He took a swig of beer – there was still some part of him that was a good little Vulcan boy that wouldn't cross over into hard liquor.

Minnie suddenly knew what was going on. "Um, Tair, how long have you been divorced?"

"A little less than… Oh, shit. It's that time again."

Minnie remembered what Tariq's dad said when she came over. I don't want that rat eating Romulan Jezebel near my house. What the fuck, why does she have a Terran surname. He literally sprayed everything in the house with bleach because he accused her of having STDs.

Shit like, I don't want my kids to look like that (the fuck? In terms of Terran race, Tariq looks like a mix of Black and South Asian, but his brother looks Southeast Asian, but that's not what they mean by race around here), calling her by her species instead of her name… it was pretty fucked up. So much for that vaunted Vulcan tolerance, some of them will smile like a villain until you try to get too close to their family. They'll marry the occasional upper-class Terran, though.

Within the year, Tariq was married off to a 'nice' Vulcan girl and working in some computer factory near the planet's south pole. At the age of 40, his dad took his passport away and pressured him into attending monasteries, temples and other religious bullshit. He was tired. When T'Noor left him with their son in tow, he was like, one and done. But he's still getting child support extracted from his check every month. Fucking feminazi Vulcan laws.

But like they say in the Rim, the hawthorn doesn't fall too far from the tree. Tariq was so fine he could get any chick or gay guy in the galaxy. However, he acts like his balls are made of 10000 pussies, just bending over and spreading chocolate starfish for this 250 year old decaying Nazi.

He's gonna want me to save his ass from that Porn Farr or whatever they call it, and he's not gonna get it. I'm not a sentient tissue paper, rub one out. Porn is free on the galactic net. Or go to the kind of bar where you'll find willing ladyboys and other call girls. Either die of epic blue balls like you people do – yes, I said you people – or get herpes for the next 200 years of your life.

"So… any new ladies fluttering around the flame known as Tariq?" asked Minnie, slamming her vodka shot. "Speaking of which, what new culture is your dad hating on now? The Klingons? The Cardassians?"

"God damn it, I haven't seen that little bitch Saliek in over 10 years. Ever since T'Noor fucked me over, I haven't been anywhere but here in New Jakarta, chugging palm wine and getting stoned off my ass," said Tariq, the modelesque peaks of his ears turning green with frustration. "I'm a wanted man on Vulcan, and throughout the Federation. I stopped paying child support."

"That makes two of us. Until last week, I was wanted in the Romulan Empire for stealing Social Security checks from a dead bitch. Or one who should have been dead 80 years ago."

"Until last week?" God, thought Mirage, I don't want this broke nigga to think I'm offering to help his punk ass. But there's no fooling a telepathic dude.

"Never mind, it's all shit."

Why, why, why, what the fuck is wrong with you, Captain Minnie Mirage, scourge of the galaxy, who made 10 million in reubillium futures last week? Today, a successful patron of waifs from fucked up planets, but born the child of a bath salt huffer from Laos by way of Mars, and a navy deserter from Romulus by way of Desolatum's moon?

How can you help this possibly racist son of a veritable Nazi, broke ass trifling ass muthafucka? She had her honor blade on her, but was too much of a pussy to use it. So she substituted a shot of Everclear, and took a hit of Denebian weed to calm her nerves.

"Hey. Ninja." Minnie's comm beeped.  
"What's good."  
"Minnie, there is a cloaked ship nearby. I see the characteristic change in starlight. New Jakarta is known for piracy – and they target freighters like ours."  
"All right. Be ready to beam me up – soon."

Minnie thought to herself: it's just sex. But some part of her, probably some deep rooted atavistic Romulan bullshit, didn't want to give an inch – much less 8. She could kill fucking Tariq with her bare hands because they were matched in strength, unlike humans. You know what? Minnie's been feeling a bit under the weather lately, but she didn't know if Romulans got the same shit. Leelee never did – where is that old whore -

"Tariq, I'm concerned about this shit. All these hot babes, ladyboy call girls around here that look like models and you target my fat wrinkly ass, 65 years old?"

Tariq sighed and put his impeccably shiny head in his long, slender hands.

"I miss you and I shouldn't have listened to that fucker."

"But you did. How do I know you won't be like that in the future?"

"Test me. Do you want to meld with me?"

"I can try. But you know I wasn't raised in the culture."

Minnie touched Tariq's face in the place that she kept seeing on TV because she didn't really have Vulcanoid friends. She felt the swirling pit of alcoholism, depression and social immaturity lurking within the tall, slender man.

He was like a 50 year old virgin, a prepubescent boy trapped in the body of a grown-ass man, shirking one responsibility after another to search for comfort and not having to try hard. The ultimate stoner paradise. And he really was fucking sick to the point where it felt like cancer.

"Tell me. What's wrong with the hot young hooker right outside the window for your crazy urges?"

"I have an STD. Deadly to humans, reversible in people like us. But only treatable on my planet. I got it from T'Noor, and didn't know I had it until I came here."

She knew exactly what PIV – Porcine Immunodeficiency Disease – was, and a Vulcan would die before admitting they had that shit."So how much will you pay me, and how?"

Tariq sighed. "I don't have any money. But there's nothing keeping me here on New Jakarta."

Minnie had an idea. "You want to get into liquor and drug smuggling? Plus, if I get this fucking PIV virus, I'm gonna kill you if you don't take, and pay for me to be cured. i know that you have a permanent itch, and if I get it you're going down."

"I have nothing left. But I can smuggle liquor and drugs."

"You'll swear to stay in the Empire for a year? Hey, you might like it." She loved watching him squirm like a maggot. She was planning to torture him exquisitely before taking advantage of his situation.

It was 15 years ago, in some club, on some shitty planet between the Rim and the normal part of the galaxy. Amidst the pounding porno-groove house music of Squirrel-X and the shiny, shiny lights, Minnie was slinging pills, small-time. The club was one of those places packed with inexperienced Terrans and other humanoids in skimpy clothes, getting their jollies _omg so close to the notorious Rim._

Tariq emerged from a cluster of kids in the middle, one of a few with pointy ears.

"Hey, shorty, you're looking kinda hot." He was obviously a n00b.

"What's it to you? I got Oxy, I got bath salts… what's your pleasure?"

"I'd rather have you." Whaaaat? This Vulcan jackass was bolllld. But Minne was 50, horny, and wanting to get her groove back like Stella. Age 50 and a small time hustler, she felt like a fucking failure. As stupid as this knucklehead was, he looked like a model. Young, tight ass, smooth skin – time to Eat Pray Love across the galaxaaaay. Little did she know what she was getting into.

Tariq kept going. "You know, it's not often that you find people like us in the club scene. Unbonded, far from home, doing a very illogical activity."

She knew it. He's a fuckin' Vulcan. She'll have to deal with his overprotective family eventually.

"I… see. Yeah, you know?" This place is full of Earthlings. I'm here trynna make a quick buck. Then I'm gonna… meditate."

"Your place or mine?" Hell no! She wasn't gonna do it in a gross hotel room where 10 guys were staying!

"Mine. Got the whole freighter to myself."

Minnie came back to reality and tapped her phone. "_Ninja,_ 2 to beam up."

As she arrived on the ship, Kim rushed toward her. "It's pirates. We gotta jet."

Minnie barked at her robot. "Tyrone, maximum warp. Now, to Desolatum."

Tariq remained calm, a first for his scaredy ass. "Yeah, the New Indonesia system's full of pirates."

As they entered hyperspace, Minnie let out a sigh. "Ahhh…. got away. Tair, Desolatum's about 6 hours away."

"Hey, ain't ya gonna introduce us?" said Kim.

"Oh, Kim, this is my ex Tariq. I told you about his triflin' ass a coupla times. Tariq, this is Kimora Atta of Mar Thoma II, current rogue peddler and ace hacker."

They were hurtling toward Desolatum at max speed to pick up some good shiet and to finally… The ship ain't a home. Maybe some of those new starships, the military kind, the corporate kind. The Ninja's livable area was the size of an old-style efficiency apartment because it was so packed with stuff all the damn time. It wasn't a very big ship, and 4 people lived there now.

Minnie hadn't seen LeeLee in over 40 years. After getting declassified, she was a free woman and had something to finally offer. "Come back when you have something to show, you dirty mutt," LeeLee often said. Now she had a secret weapon to gain LeeLee's cooperation.

But first, there was the business with Tariq. He was passed out in his chair, sweating like a motherfucker and damn near death. She needed his expertise, his connection to people in the Federation, for this smuggling venture to work. She also needed someone who spoke Romulan fluently….

Minnie put Tariq on the bottom bunk in the storage room that she shared with Kim and Tyrone. When it was too full they would just recline their chairs on the bridge. It wasn't the most romantic environment, but it'll have to suffice.

She plugged in her phone and put on a mix of Terran crooner Harry Flite and the nasty porno groove of Aaliyahm, then set the lights to a pink glow, with holographic pink roses on the wall to set the mood. Finally, she spritzed the air lightly with Axis lizard pheromone spray and took a long huff of a spliff while putting a Rough Ryder rubber on a nearby crate.

Unzipping her jeans, she was like, "well, here goes nothing." Before she even started peeling off her boxer briefs, Tariq was butt naked and bolt upright with a woodie, drooling like a rabid pitbull, ready to pounce. His bronze skin, flushed with a forest green glow, seemed to shine as if it were oiled. "Oh sheeeeeit…"

Damn. He looked good like this. His six-pack abs and toned muscles glowed in the low light. Looking at him was watching a live action issue of Playgirl. The alcohol just rolled off him like water off a duck's back. His eyes seemed to glow with an inner flame as he moved intently toward her and she rolled a condom on just in the nick of time.

Oh fuck. This is why. This is why she tolerated this broke ass bitch for so many months. As Tariq's hot, double ridged cock pried open her wet pussy and hit her G-spot, Minnie started moaning. Damnnn that feels good. Tariq was flexible enough to suck on Minnie's tiddays, which were hard enough to cut diamond right now. Ummmm that was good.

Tariq's dick seemed to grow bigger inside her. "Roll over," he said, and Minnie obliged and went Meow in a sensual way, lifting her ass up so that he could ream her out doggy style. He started pounding her pussy with his hard cock, his balls slapping against Minnie's toned thighs. Man, Tariq could keep going longer than a human would without getting tired.

Tariq reached one arm over and rolled Minnie so that they were sitting facing one another, and Minnie wrapped her legs around Tariq's body as he lifted her by the booty and moved her up and down his long, juicy shaft like a blow-up doll. Damn, she was over 200 pounds, but to his toned muscles she was as light as Styrofoam.

That shit felt gooood... Tariq kissed Minnie, pushing his hot tongue inside her mouth and French kissing that shit. Then they parted, and Minnie sucked Tariq's neck. Tariq lifted up her fat left tit with both hands and sucked on it hard. It felt so good that Minnie almost squirted. Minnie noticed that her light olive skin started turning deep green around the chest area and up

to the neck. Damn.

Something unusual. Minnie felt some flashes of weirdness. Like she was looking at herself, and it was her dick going into her own pussy. Tariq smiled. You know this shit's getting real when paranormal phenomena start happening. Flashes of a low, adobe house on a desert planet, and an angry, overweight pale skinned girl telling you to stay away from the kid you've gotta stay away from this little curly haired boy. She winced.

"Sorry about that," said Tariq. "And now, you'll forget all about that." He flipped her around and his dick slid between her thick booty cheeks repeatedly. "Can I cum in your ass? I need it. I really need it bad." Minnie was too horny to care and she nodded her

head.

Tariq peeled off the rubber and his wet, hard cock slowly entered Minnie's tight brown hole. Man, that felt so good. Almost like the member was lubricating itself. Minnie relaxed into it, lay flat on the bed while Tariq entered her asshole all the way. It didn't feel weird at all, she didn't need to breathe out or relax her muscles.

The double ridge of Tariq's dick was rubbing against her G-spot from the opposite side of her anus, and it felt soooo good. He started going faster and faster. "I'm gonna ... I'm gonna cum!" As he squirted his hot, lime green load into her tight ass, Minnie blew her load at the same time. For a few minutes they lay in bed, then realized that a wet spot had formed. It was always crucial to avoid the wet spot.

"Dude," said Minnie, "does that telepathy thing always happen?"

"For people like us, it usually does. Sometimes with Terrans and whatever too but we already had that connection, you know?

"Fuck, I never felt that before. With you, I mean."

"There's always a first time." Tariq got up and went back to the game he was playing on his phone.

For some reason, Minnie felt more balanced than she had for the past couple of months. Somewhere, a switch had turned on when she made that scary mental connection with Tariq. Her mind's rebellion only made the release more sweet, like popping open a can that had been shaking for a year. Tariq sat at the foot of the bunk with his phone, glowing like he was ready to compete in a track meet. The fuck could tell he was like a zombie last night. He owes her.

Tariq might have been wired, but Minnie was gonna hit the hay. She didn't even need to take Ambient. Best of all, the neck pain she'd developed from long hours of navigation was gone. Now Minnie didn't have any trouble getting laid but she hadn't gotten any action for a couple of years. By choice, not force.

She was sick of dating triflin' nigga after triflin' nigga. 30 year old wannabe thugs, hailing her on subspace frequencies from their souped up freighters, trying to get her to fit into some trophy wife role. Whether it was the pimply small-time dealer Chuck Perez or the meathead merc Jhovany Chen, men she met were all cheating dawgs. She was thinking of turning lesbian. Tariq might be good in the sac but that doesn't mean he's not a low down mutt.

She usually didn't meet guys with the same lifespan she had. Most of them were humanoids, at 30 the same as she would be at 75. It was hard, yo! 300 lonely years Tokyo drifting through the galaxy. Maybe that's why she actually accepted Tariq's offer. 200, 250 years for him to man the fuck up.

She awoke to Tyrone's metal mug staring her in the face. Minnie was sitting in her chair, fully dressed with her T-shirt on backward. Tyrone. That robot. "Wake the FUUUUCK up! We're here. Home sweet home."

Desolatum! Red sands all around, the atmospheric pressure a few millibars below comfortable for humanoids, but just right for Minnie. She didn't have an apartment here anymore. They were coming back to the ship every night, like the last time they were here and it was just Minnie and Tyrone.


	4. Showdown in Desolatum City

"This is my home, guys," said Minnie as they beamed into Desolatum City.

"Kinda reminds me of Vulcan, but colder, and," as Tariq saw some guys brawling in the distance, "more violent."

They walked into a low, grey building labeled "Danice Discount Storage", and the computer said: Miss Mirage.

"Yes? We're here to get stuff out of locker 5G. What are its current coordinates?"

"(()). You're gonna go there or will you beam it up to your ship?"

"Beam-up. No dampness, right?"

"Sure.".

Minnie called Tyrone. "Be ready to beam up 2 tons of merchandise from the coordinates I'm sending you right now. Cold storage."

"Yes Minnie."

"I'm gonna pay a visit to LeeLee," said Minnie, leaning over the counter at 'Hoxpit', her favorite bar and restaurant growing up around here.

"Oh yeah?" said Naphtali "Nefty" Kim as he wiped a beer cup with one tattooed hand. "You think she's still alive? My dad's dead. I remember, you guys went to high school together."

"What happened?"

"Eh, shot by the Short Hills Gang." He filled the cup with pale green lager and handed it to Minnie. "It happens all the time."

"LeeLee's alive, for sure." She took a swig. "The question is, will she be happy that I am?"

"I heard about a decade ago that she was hooking up with some Denebian."

So she's found another interest. Hopefully she forgot about me, and what I did.

"Could you look her up in the local directory, Nefty?"

"I can try. Not certain though. You know how reclusive people like that are, lol." He logged into the secret network available to corporate shareholders of Desolatum – that Minniehad never been privy to.

"Hleith C. Rodriguez?"

"Yes."

"Here's her number and address."

He texted the data to Minnie's phone.

"I'd watch out if I were you, though."

Minnie sat and thought. She opened "send new message." Sigh. Here goes nothing.

"Hey Hleith. How's business, how's life, love and everything? I know it's been a long time, and I know I'm not a good kid. And you know, let's meet up. Your favorite restaurant here in Desolatum City, or let's meet up in my ship if you're cool with that." She sighed. LeeLee was gonna be pissed. "You're angry at me. And, you have every right to be angry at me. But look. We have a common enemy – the Romulan Empire. I can get you off their shit list. Erase the karma. If you're interested, I'm here on Desolatum. If you're not, it's all cool. Yours, Hlathong."

She took a deep breath out. Minnie got that terrible feeling she always got when something fucked up was gonna happen. Kim and Tariq were shooting the breeze at the other table. Kim was really falling for the charming Vulcan. Tariq had that effect on females  
of all types. Good for them. She wanted nothing else to do with the manchild. There was one problem, though. PIV. They had to go back to Vulcan to have that shit fixed before he could fuck any Terrans. Otherwise it's like spreading Ebola to your friends.

Minnie ordered coffee. Black, with 3 scoops of Splendor, a sweetener. A call was coming through from an unknown number.

"Mirage speaking."

"Hlathong? This is your mother. I'm wondering what's going on. How is yo ass still alive, I thought you dead."

"I have news that is good for you. Ever wanted to get back with your family in the Empire?"

I'm interested."

"We have to talk about this in person. At the Hoxpit?"

"Gurl no! You gotta come over and meet your new father. He's very charming."

"Sounds good."

"Come over. I want to see yo ass up in here at 1900 tonight."

"I've got some friends with me."

"Bring them right over!" LeeLee was unusually chipper. This meant: 1. she's high, and 2. something fucked up was about to happen.

"Hey Tariq, hey Kim."

"Yeah?"

"Are you up for some family time? "

Minnie and her friends beamed over to the coordinates. This part of Desolatum was very flat, dry, and, well, desolate. An old fence creaked in the distance and tumbleweed drifted by. They came to a low sturcture made up of old shipping containers welded together and painted Peptol pink.

Standing right in the doorway was a Romulan….ish woman. The first thing you noticed was her big, puffy orange weave, roughly the same shade as her tanned leathery skin. She sported a tight, TIGHT! white T-shirt emblazoned with the word "BABE" in rhinestones, and purple shorts. Smiling tightly, showing no teeth presumably as a demure Romulan girl, but in reality because her grill was fucked up from bath salts.

Standing next to LeeLee was a fat, white and sweaty bald man in a wifebeater and threadbare track pants. The ridge bifurcating his skull indicated his Denebian heritage, and his sunflower-yellow eyes did as well.

"Hlaaaaaathong!" she said in East Romulan, loud and high pitched enough to shatter glass." Minnie was obliged to walk down the dirt road. She put her hand over her chest in the Romulan salute, quietly. "This is your new father, Maldy Janglins. He is from Deneb. And very wealthy." The Denebian gave a big cheesy grin, revealing a mouth full of gold teeth. "See?"

"Um, mom, my friends are here too."

"Oh!" She switched to Basic.

"Nice-a to mee et you, Meenie's friend."

"I'm Kim." "And I'm Tariq."

"Oh, haw vondaful!" She attempted to engage Tariq in Romulan, grilling him on his family background, his job, how much he made, yadda yadda…

"Mom, shut up. He's a Vulcan."

"Ohhhh – you don say that to Mommy, you leetle slut! I got to whip yo ass." The Denebian kept smiling. Minnie wondered if he was stone deaf or just retarded. "I'm sorry mi dear Thareeek. That is a beeyouteeful name. Not like Meeenie. Come-a yin! Come-a yin!"

All of them knew to take off their shoes before coming into a Romulan household, but somehow Maldy was exempt.

"It's his culture…"  
They came in and sat on the plastic wrapped couch in front of the TV.

"Hlaaathong come een and cook! I need you to cut the potatoes paper theen. This is our thing you know. And bring water to  
our guests!"

Kim gave Minnie a sympathetic look as the half-Terran hobbled out with tiny crystal glasses on a pewter tray, then immediately ran back into the kitchen.

LeeLee came out and shoved her face into Tariq's. "Soooo… have you got a niiice weddin planned for meee? And you know Pimslah has a neeew course that you can learn de language."

"Um," said Tariq, "I'm not, like, getting married or whatever.

Minnie rolled out awkwardly with some plates, a bunch of Romulan panis roti, and some stir fried potatoes with ground beef. She also had some canned chickpeas in tomato sauce for Tariq. Kim and Tariq dug in, with Tariq picking out some potato pieces from the meat mixture because he honey badgered his vegetarianism.

"So, Hleith," said Minnie, noticing that her mom was visibly disturbed by the use of her first name by the child. "I have that offer for you. As you may know, I'm a free person. I can go back to the Empire."

"But that is not posseeble."

"Kim, tell LeeLee how you did it."

"I can change your status so you'll be free to go anywhere, no probation, no parole, no nothing."

"I want it. Now." Hleith couldn't stand delayed gratification, and started stamping her fat, sock-clad feet.

"We'll leave tonight. Here, have some ale." Minnie actually needed a drink more than any of them. Why….

"Where will Maldy go? How will he fit in – he doesn't know Romulan stuff," said Hleith.

"All right, you don't have to come with us. But I'll text you when you have the option of going back."

"But I don't have a sheeep!"

Minnie knew her mom wanted her to buy a ship, on the spot. LeeLee was very financially dissolute.  
\

"You'll have that option when we come to it. We will talk about the ship later."

As they walked outside, Minnie breathed a sigh of relief. Free! She was free! Now, they headed back to the Hoxspit for liquid nourishment.

She faced Tariq in the bar, their beers sweating at the sight of one another.

"Tell me about this Porcine Immunodeficiency shit. I want to know all about it, and getting rid of it. I'm poz, you're poz. So spill."

Tariq looked visibly distressed, his dark eyes darting around.

"We'll have to go back to Vulcan. But I'll be arrested for the child support shit, and they'll probably give you shit for being Romulan."

"Fuck it. It's time to go to my country. Or, the place kids told me to go back to."

She was going to go directly to liquor manufacturers in the Romulan Empire. No excuses.

"Here. Romulan language packs for our Babelfish devices."

"Hey, it's better than not having them." Tariq applied his.


	5. Beer Before Liquor, Liquor Before Beer

"We're crossing over," said Tyrone. "Are you sure about this?"

"Look Ty, we're just crossing over the back end by Khazaria. We ain't crossin' no neutral zone or whatevz. Nobody cares about any part of the Outer Rim in any jurisdiction and they sure ain't gonna waste dilithium monitoring this part o the galaxy." Hell, even Minnie wasn't sure. She was just acting bold. She puffed on a spliff while drifting by on Warp 3, then handed it to Tariq.

Tariq took a puff, a long, sweet drag of the Denebian herb. So strong. To last long, as the jingle went. He absent-mindedly stroked the pointy part of Minnie's ear to calm her down – a Romulan lover's habit, which led Kim to hiss possessively. _Damn, _thought Minnie. _Only a week since I mixed them together and they're on __**fiyah**_.

"I've changed the registration of _Ninja _to standard Romulan readings. We're now the H'jalleth. That's Romulan for Ninja… I think this dictionary says…" said Kim.

"Sexy." Minnie noticed that H'jaleeth meant something like a ninja, but Hjalleth meant a pole. As in, a metal pole used for stripping. Maybe some sick fucks would pursue the ship now, looking for ass. Hjalleth as a verb also had the colloquial meaning "to twerk" or "to pop one's booty". "I think the coast is clear, babe. Let's head to Hickory system, makers of the best ale and other goodies this side of the Empire."

Hickory III, called Maple, was a deep turquoise planet – all turquoise! So smooth, looking like the surface of a Jello shot. Blue clouds scudded across its pleasing surface. Oooh… Minnie remembered the last time she was here. His name was Brock Mistiq, or just Mistiq for short. Minnie had been buying bath salts wholesale with her mom. One taste of that Safaa White and Brock and Minnie were getting buck wild in the cargo hold. And then she couldn't return for over 40 years….

"There's a call coming through."

"My friends, what is your business here on Maple?" said a handsome older Romulan dressed old school, with a monocle in one eye and his long, wavy ponytail gathered like George Washington's.

"This is the freighter… Hjalleeth, looking to check out your finest wares."

"Most excellent. I am Controller Kartek, welcome to Maple."

"All right. Kim, they've probably never seen a Terran before. Here." Tyrone pulled her aside, threw her a headband and pulled an eyebrow pencil out of the replicator, and Kim got to work.

"Freighter? Kartek here again. There is a supplier convention going on, and I would love to extend you an invite –"

"Hlathong and Tariq, this is Kimaq."

"How wonderful." He smiled – so very un-Vulcan, thought Tariq. "Now, here are the coordinates. We await your arrival gladly."

The convention center was abuzz with activity – smokin' hot pointy eared models in bikinis and clear heels handed out shots of beers, liquors and delectable powders. A booth babe passed Minnie a freshly-lit joint as she arrived, and she inhaled its fresh, minty flavor.

Passing it to Tariq, she truly realized that there was no place like home. The richness of flavor, scent, sight and sound – the hot, Romulan vibes were so much more exciting than the boring blandness of the human world. Their main contact with the outside- the military guys – were so boring and unrepresentative.

A girl wearing nothing but glitter, feathers and a g-string handed them some dark blood-green ale. As Minnie took a sip, the flavors burst into life. Chaos. Berry-cinnamon, mint. _Whoa. _Kim was floored by the taste.

"Daymn. This is so good," she squealed. The booth babe led them to the main booth serving the green ale, and she saw that these liquors came in every color –

"Mistiq."

"Hlathong." The man behind the booth could never forget that afternoon. He tipped his blood-green hat and adjusted the ruffle at his collar. "How long it's been, welcome back to Maple, your home away from home." He held out cups of blue liquid. "This is the best. 10 year aged ale."

She heard him talking but all she could think of was the way he looked, naked. Especially covered in Khazarian oil… Minnie absent-mindedly sipped her drink as her mind went straight to Mistiq's crotch. Mmm. She heard Tariq remark on the various flavors, but all she could think of was cornering the light-eyed Romulan in her bunk.

"So, Hlathong, what do you think of this vintage?"

"Oh, it's pretty wonderful. Delightful." She giggled. "How much for a case?"

"For you?" He gave a smoldering look with those pretty eyes. He watched the big, bad smuggler squirm. "Just 100 credits for a case of 50. Or, 66 Federation credits, if you're looking for a conversion."

That was less than a third of the price she paid suppliers on the outside! She never reacted like this. Then she came back to her senses.

"Mmm… good, but I think 80 is a little better."

"All right. 85 – and a little more, should I say?" She wanted it so bad, but … PIV.

How could she tell him? She was on meds so she wasn't actively shedding viral load, but even with protection there was always a risk. Treatment for this stuff just didn't exist in the Empire, you just lived with it until it shortened your lifespan.

"85 – with a kiss. But – "She sighed longingly. "that's all I can give. Married, you know."

His eyes were downcast, forlorn. "85 it is. And, the azure green one for 60."

"Twenty cases of blue, 100 of green." That's all she had room for in the cooling compartment after picking up bath salts from Desolatum, but they were gonna do all right. 85 creds! She had to come back here. After her cure. She went on to check out some other suppliers half-heartedly, just for the heck of it. And where were Kim and Tariq…

She found them in the back woods. Kim had just zipped her jeans up when a bunch of federal police decloaked.

"Where do you think you're going," said the cop – _the pig _– shoving a blaster in Minnie's face.

"Shit." She watched a fat, hairy hog pat Kim down, concentrating lasciviously on her breast and booty areas. And the other one kept fondling Tariq's package like he was hiding C4 in his jockstrap or something.

"No ID on this bitch." He stripped the headband. "And … oho, she ain't from around here, is she?" Perverse grin.

The feds seized them and beamed the crew of the _Ninja_ to an unknown location.

Minnie must've been in the dank cell for days. She was parched. She started licking the moisture of the walls and sucking on them greedily like a horny bastard eating pussy.

Fuck. They must've separated everyone. MinnieminnieminnieminnieminnieMINNIE! Somewhere, Tariq was getting raped. She could sense it through their connection. Tariq was getting Abner Louima'd by 3 hungry-ass homo guards. She could almost hear his screams echoing through the grey stone cavern that formed their hallway. And judging from the heavy footsteps coming down the hall, she was about to get the same treatment.

Her cell bars opened. The three Romulan guards were muscular… and not bad looking. She knew that the logical solution – how Vulcan of her! Tariq was rubbing off on her – was not to resist, because there was no way she could either 1. get away, or 2. somehow die with honor in a proper Romulan fashion. There was no time to grab her honor blade, not that they wouldn't steal it anyway.

"Get on your knees!" barked the middle guard, nothin' but steel in his pretty, green eyes. Unbuckling his belt, he let his heavy canvas pants fall to his ankles. His cock was big, hard and double-ridged. Mmm. Under normal circumstances, Minnie would be on that shit voluntarily.

Seeing as she had no choice, she took the initiative and deep throated that shit, hoping to anticipate their move. It was salty and dirty, but she kept licking the back of his dick head on both frenula.

"Yeah, you like that cock, don't you bitch?" Another guard ripped off her shirt and pants with that Romulan strength and started slapping her ass – first with his hand, then with his hard cock. He started sliding his cock between her butt cheeks and trying to shove it in her ass. Minnie wanted to make it easier for everyone so she turned around, sucking Romulan 1's balls and cock in reverse while Romulan 2 slid his short, but thick dick between her fat pussy lips.

_Whew. Glad I got that 10 year birth control implant. _She spread her legs as his hard length penetrated her tight pussy, stretching it out with its thickness. She wrapped her ankles around his neck as his cock went deeper and hit her G-spot as her ass cheeks slapped against his thighs.

Let me join the fun, said Romulan guard 3, squeezing her boobs hard. He couldn't get his big hands all the way around her tits, which gave him a lot of satisfaction. Damn. He pulled down his pants and started wacking off, slapping his cock against her tit. He sat on her stomach, fucked her tits, laughed and then lifted her ass off the ground. Romulan 1 lay back as Minnie continued to suck his cock, and she felt one cock in her ass and the other one in her pussy. _Damn, these guys were flexible. Terran guys would've thought that shit was gay, touching cocks and shit. _Short thick was in her ass, while the guy stretching out her pussy was long and thin.

She felt a wave of bliss hit her G-spot as it was being rubbed from both sides, and she squirted all over Romulan 3. At the same time, she felt the first guard cum in her mouth – delicious, minty flavor filled her throat as she drank it all down. _Mmm. _Her squirting only made long thin buck harder as he slid her up and down his cock like a blowup doll on a stripper pole. The guy in her ass came hard as she continued to suck drops of cum out of the first guy's cock, draining his nuts dry. He shoved his cock in her mouth and she tasted her own shit, making her gag. _The fuck? _The guy in her pussy came, hard, filling her with the sweet, profuse warmth of Romulan cum – _feels so much nicer than that terran weak tea _– She flexed her pussy, sucking it deeper inside her. She just wanted to lay there.

Then she felt a dick slapping her face. Damn. Another round?

After they were done, she felt a bit of depressed satisfaction, knowing that she was dooming them to a life of PIV. Maybe the risk of getting it was lower for guys. After all, Romulan guys were known for pursuing ass throughout the galaxy. She put her clothes back on and looked around for a drain.

Twenty jail sectors away, Tariq moaned in his wooden cot, his ass burning like he had eaten 2 tons of Bhut Jolokia ghost peppers in a millisecond.

He felt a familiar touch cool his body and mind, like it had the last time he'd been cooled during Pon Farr. _Minnie… _And he saw the guards again, but in his mind's ass felt his sphincter relax into the pleasure of being filled up. Some other universe, in some other life, _that shit felt so good, oooh _– and the soreness, the screaming_ it made him get wet and shit as the guard entered his pussy _–

Da fuck? Tariq looked down at his crotch, making sure he was still a man. Then, the other shit hit him like an avalanche. The sweet, sweet feeling of a bath salts high. The hangover, cured by a delicious, ice-cold glass of Romulan ale. Hawking wares in an open-air market, the sweet romance and bath salts shared with Mistiq on Maple.

Tariq, listen to me – no, Minnie, listen – shut the fuck up, bitch! It's me, Minnie

Then, a double sight, another image layered on this. Another set of bars, another cavern. Another pair of pants on his swollen ass. Another –

Idea. Minnie looked at the shit hole leading to the sewers and there was no way she could fit in there unless she put 10 girdles on her ass. It would have to be –

Tariq started chipping away at the latrine hole and soon was able to remove one of the bricks with his Vulcan multipurpose tool. He knocked a bunch of them out before lowering his body into the hole – ugh –

Minnie honey badgered that shit, though. Sometimes her mom's apartment smelled lowered her suddenly slim figure into a warm turd, freshly squeezed from a bilious (Denebian, maybe?)

Anus. Ah, warm and comfy. She rooted around for a weapon and located a nice little iron rod, about 2 feet long. Hell yeah. She gave it a practice swing and felt its heft.

Minnie took a little stroll through the damp, expansive chamber. The Vulcan multi had a moisture condenser, which she waved through the air to collect a bagful of surprisingly pure water. She chugged the fluid. _Not bad. _Then she let some fluid fly from her bladder. Water in, water out. Sometimes you've gotta be a scout.

She knew the water was safe, though it had a tang like sweaty balls. Like the guard's sweaty balls, almost. Minnie kept moving until she cleared the large mounds of feces and found an area with just cavern – and the sweet light trailing from outside. Hell, she laughed to herself. This ain't a proper Romulan prison. This was some crumbling indigenous structure. But this shit was long. Long and hard, she said, as she felt the walls. I wonder what Ty is doing on that ship.

(Tyrone was, at the moment, using the ship's computer to fap to "Denebian Anal Action Part 2". He was real honey badger about the whole situation.)

Her senses, heightened from Tariq's psychic training on Vulcan, picked up all kinds of shit. A rat scuttling behind the wall, disturbing and dispersing a colony of roaches. Two guards fucking a Romulan chick behind the other wall – behind the wall? She looked past the wall in her mind's eye –

And was bowled over by the kaleidoscope of voices and heartflames. A while later, just listening to this, she began chanting a mantra that was wholly alien, yet totally familiar. She sat cross-legged like a fuckin' Mar Thoman darwish, rocking back and forth, index fingers held together as her spellbound mind started sieving out the bullshit.

She was looking for one voice. And she found it.

Minnie ran.

The crystals were so, so enticing. They smelled like burning ammonia heaven itself as Tariq cut them up into powder with a razor she had in her sleeve. I need to keep going. I need to keep pushing. Minnie hadn't slept in 4 days and the Pervigyl pills were starting to wear off. She had to keep wading through the sewer to Kim's cell. But it was so long...

He cut them up into lines on the back of her phone, the only flat surface she had. It was a pretty big phone, and you didn't need a lot. He lifted the phone to his nose and snorted a line. Then another, and pretty soon 2 ounces of bath salts were up her nose, sparkling bliss into her skull like fireworks, Pop

Rocks and dolphins cumming repeatedly from being electrocuted in the dick and asshole.

And she felt alive. Electric. Like everything around her was a bubble, waiting to be popped. She was Alice in fuckin Wonderland, baby. Then, a noise. Some guys were shouting in Romulan. Guards. Minnie pulled out her sharp length of pipe and it morphed into a lightsaber before her eyes, and she started laughing, lightning crackling from her fingertips.

Come and get me, come and Fucking get me ha ha ha ha ha... She had an orgasmically spurting blaster in his left hand, majorette twirling a laser sword in her right, and the guys came at her like a pack of piranha chihuahuas jumping into a giant meat grinder.

A man came from above and she plunged the laser sword into his body, ripping him from crotch to skull and finally breaking through his skull fontanelle with a delicious crunch. Wow. The pillar was truly 'stablished in the void. She let out a yelp and blasted the bits of flesh as they coursed through the air in a snow globe of blood, like lovely falling leaves of autumn woods.

Eventually the snow globe settled and she licked some of the forest green blood off her arm; it tasted for all the world like enriched blackstrap molasses from Delos Five. Good for your body, good for your soul, went the old jingle.

And she kept running in the brightnothing, feeling for all the world like a glorious unicorn entering hyperspace with the warmsongflood of bacon filling her senses.

Before long, though the phone told her that two days had passed, Minnie/Tariq reached Kim's cell. She could sense it, her telepathy heightened by the drug. Wow. Kim smelled so delicious. She saw a drain above her and rappelled up the bumpy wall with bare, bleeding fingers but she couldn't feel a damn thing, and climbed upward.

Tariq, through Minnie's half-blind eyes, could see Kim through the back of the wall, and so he swung around and emerged directly into the hallway. Kim was so close. Her breath, heartbeat, the scent of her sex, the sweat of her pits. He breathed out a single word. Kim. Lead pipe in one hand, laser blaster in the other. Boom. A step, a pulse in his lower left abdomen, where his little Vulcan heart pumped a pine-green stew of ragefuck.

And, click, he opened the gate. Kim was passed the fuck out, naked, her asshole spewing that weird red Terran 'blood', mixed with pale green cum. Looks like the guys' Romulan strength had overpowered her completely. He held her, light as a blowup doll. He would dress her, back on the ship.

Bowing his head to thousands of aeons of Vulcan desert-runner adaptation, he picked up speed.

There was an exit to this sewer maze. Kim could get infected with the fecal contact, her race was fucked up like that. We might even need to fully re-gen her body or some shit. And the transport wasn't there, and the blaster cut through three guards like so much margarine.

Whoo. Atavistic speed took his body beyond – beyond!

And then he just collapsed and shit, his upper arms stiffening like tent poles so his denser vulcanoid body wouldn't crush Kim. One of the few things the guards took from them was their phones. Couldn't call Tyrone - great. There's gotta be a town near here. He could grab a prepaid. But he couldn't sense anything but the buzz buzzbuzzfucki'llkillyoubuzzbuzz buzz of insect life, and the slow undertow of palm tree hearts' blood, sucking him into their soporific guts.

Hey Tair. A familiar voice stirred within him and his ganglia responded with delicious sparks arcing like a Tesla coil. Superimposed on a placid turquoise sky, the grillshadow of iron bars. My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts... Securitycalmfreedom. Stay. The warmth of a bonfire in Alfheim's stark desert night, the stars above with The Follower's terranblood glow, the familiar sign of a hometown sky. And he felt invisible muscles relax, lay back on a wooden cot, closing invisible eyes.

Of course, he said as he walked a bit further, seeing the familiar shape of houses in the background. (Familiar?) There were going to be shops on the main strip, and he would leave Kim here beneath leaves. He looked like a freak but - remember the coordinates where you left her. He smelled like shit and needed a shower, but would they deny him at the fuckin' corner store?

"Hey, fuckin' bum! The fuck out of my store -"

"I gotta grab a prepaid real quick." He held up a wad of 20s -

"A hundred credits. Scram!" The Denebian almost threw the phone at Tariq, grabbing the shitstained money. "Scram before I call the cops!"

He had what he needed, and walked behind the houses, toward the woods, hearing cops in the background he picked up like he was on Alfheim, and became a white rabbit in a snowdrift. Gathering up Kim, he ran back the way he came, hiding himself, then, when the time came, making the call.

Tariq sat on the bridge, staring out at the turquoise sphere. "Where do you think she is," asked Tyrone nonchalantly, like only a robot can be.

"I can't begin to know." He knew viscerally as he felt his own body squirming, poked and prodded by coarse Dokkar hands and other members. He couldn't get a handle on the coordinates. MinnieminnieminnieminnieMINNIE screamed something deep within his groin.

Where were you, in relation to me? Can you sense my trail? They touched and went backward through the tunnel together, to where the vision doubled, merged, split off. To where the consciousness transferred itself into the thinner body, hacking furiously at the latrine. There.

Tariq gave the coordinates to Tyrone. "Ty, scan for humanoid signals within this range." The twinmind mapped a grid onto the combined memory. Let's hope we don't beam up some random Mar Thoman axe murdering jihadist or whatever. Lol. The only person in the room who would be offended by that joke was passed the fuck out, rolled up in a re-gen infused damp mat on a cot.

Running into the transporter, Tariq saw a Minnie as bewildered and naked as Kim, only conscious. OhmygodohmyGOD... Tariq saw his own body before him, and Minnie her own, and the opposite, all twisted around.

"Captain Mirage."

"Let's get the fuck out of here."


End file.
